Chapter Fifteen

Christian's eyes snapped open. "What was that?"

"The victim is Byron Zikes, the man we arrested for vandalizing Ms. LaLonde's shop."

Christian tried to process what he was hearing. He'd been prepared for the detective to tell him that Jay Guitterez was the deceased. Instead, it was the man who had spray-painted nasty messages on Aja Blue's storefront. "What the hell?"

"Yeah, it throws a monkey wrench into the investigation."

More like a bomb.

"I had an interesting conversation with Zikes's mother when I informed her about her son's death. She insisted that a man and woman came to visit yesterday, and they were the ones who killed him. She said they threatened Byron, telling him, ‘Your life is about to become a living hell.' Know anything about that?"

Christian winced. "Uh, no."

"Didn't think so."

"What did you tell her?"

"That we'd look into it, and I just did."

Christian's admiration of the detective just kicked up a notch, or several. "Is there any news on the van used to fire the explosive into the shop?"

"Dead end. There is no way to identify it. The cameras lost it."

How did Zikes end up dead in the place he'd defaced hours earlier? "Do you have footage of someone luring Zikes inside?"

"No. There is nothing. He had to have been brought in through the back door. No video. I'll have the report soon, but we don't know if he was dead first or if he died in the blaze."

Something Zikes said during their conversation jogged his memory: "Mom, the guy is an abomination. Isn't that what you taught me? You made me sit through sermons spouting the same thing for years. It's what Pastor Chet at the Church of the Enlightened preaches every week."

Pastor Chet. They needed to speak to the man who'd fostered the hate bubbling inside Zikes. Maybe Christian should've mentioned it to Detective Herbert, but his money was with his coworkers. He wanted to look the man in the eye when questioning him. Christian was good at reading people.

"Let me know what you find out."

"I will."

Christian disconnected and ran a background check before jogging downstairs. As he'd expected, Kayne and Presley were already up. He gave them a quick rundown of his conversation with the detective.

"So, the guy you busted for vandalism became a victim himself?" Kayne shook his head. "I did not see that coming."

"Yeah, me either."

"Maybe it was a warning," Presley theorized. "His accomplice or accomplices were afraid he would talk to the police and rat them out."

Christian nodded. "My thoughts too. It's similar to what happened to the guy who tried to grab Aja Blue. They get rid of loose ends."

"I'm thinking we need to pay a visit to Pastor Chet," Presley decided.

"Lucky for us, he has a group meeting tonight," Christian told them. "I did a little research. He sounds like a neo-Nazi white supremacist masking as a preacher."

"And if he cloaks his hatred in religion, gullible people will listen and follow along," Presley remarked.

"Exactly. Judging by his social media posts, he's also a misogynist."

"Figures," grumbled Presley.

"I'm not trying to exclude you, but Kayne and I will attend the meeting. One, I don't know if they would even let you in, and two, he would be more open to speaking with us."

Presley looked unhappy but said, "We'll need disguises for you two. Right now, you're both poster children for authority figures."

"It's a shame we don't have access to the Prop Shop," Kayne remarked, referencing the department at the CObrA Securities complex where you could find any necessary disguise, including fake papers and identification.

"We'll have to make do." Presley studied them with narrowed eyes. "I'm thinking some fake beards, plaid, and maybe a mullet will fit you boys right in."

When Christian heard footsteps, he turned to see Aja Blue descending the stairs. Her gorgeous mahogany hair was pulled back from her face, and the top she wore made her blue eyes glow like sparkling sapphires against the creamy ivory of her skin.

Oh, damn, he had it bad.

"Hey, everyone. Sorry I slept so long."

"You didn't," Christian insisted. "Hon—" He coughed to cover his stumble. He'd almost called her honey in front of Kayne and Presley. "Aja Blue, we have a positive ID on the victim found in your office."

She gasped, and her nails bit into his forearm. "Please don't tell me it's Jay."

"It's not Jay."

She exhaled and released her grip. He mourned the loss of contact and then cursed himself. Seriously, what was wrong with him? He'd been a Marine, damn it. A DEA agent. He was tough as nails. How had one woman sashayed into his life and turned it upside down?

"Who was it?"

Aja Blue had to ask twice since he'd been mentally chastising himself. "Byron Zikes."

Aja Blue's jaw dropped open. "Junior? Are you kidding me?"

He shook his head. "Afraid not."

"But, Christian, he's the one who vandalized the building."

"He was. We think someone wanted to ensure he didn't sell his accomplices down the river." He told her about his Pastor Chet theory and their plans.

"I know a great costume shop," she told them. "Their props are super-realistic."

Presley jumped to her feet. "That sounds awesome. Let's roll."

#

It was impossible to disguise hotness. That's all there was to it.

Christian stood before Aja Blue with a ragged fu-manchu mustache, a mouth full of rotten teeth, and a shaggy wig that looked like a bird's nest that hadn't been combed in years. Kayne wore a blond mullet with a tail that hung down his back, a bushy beard and mustache, and more blackened teeth. They were in tattered plaid that covered their Kevlar vests and frayed blue jeans. Yet both still wore an air of confidence and, oh, those muscles.

Presley threw up her hands in disgust and echoed Aja Blue's thoughts. "This isn't going to work."

Christian's eyebrows shot up. "What? Why?"

"We look authentic," Kayne argued.

"No, you two still look like you could kick ass and take names. No one will buy you as sheep who will blindly follow a leader."

"Trust us to blend in," Kayne admonished. "We know how to sell it."

Since they had no other ideas, they proceeded with the plans. They either worked or they didn't.

Kayne drove with Christian riding shotgun this time. Presley sat in the back with Aja Blue, where other event attendees wouldn't notice them. They would wait in the parking lot and listen to what was happening with communication devices Presley handed out.

Aja Blue studied it before inserting it into her ear. They were undetectable, but after everyone checked in, the sound was incredible. It was as if Christian were whispering into her ear.

"Tap your right one if you want to turn off sound," Presley instructed.

"Got it," Aja Blue responded.

"Show-time."

Christian made eye contact and smiled at her before he and Kayne got out and loped inside the red-brick church with a towering spire. Several pickups and cars filled the lot. It looked like Pastor Chet's meeting would be well-attended.

"I hope this works," Presley grumbled.

"Me too."

As darkness descended, Presley glanced around the area. "You stay here with the doors locked. I'm going to do some exploring."

"Wait—what?" Aja Blue reached for her, but she was gone before she could stop her.

Aja Blue had never been afraid to be alone before. She was self-sufficient and independent. Suddenly, she was a bundle of nerves.

With a sigh, she relaxed against the seat and listened to what was happening inside the church.

#

Presley Parrish glanced around the parking lot as she casually strolled among the cars. She'd never been one to sit on the sidelines and let others do the work. She was a doer, not a waiter . . . or however the saying went.

It chaffed her that she couldn't go inside and help bring down the scumbag. But she understood the dynamics. Pastor Chet was a lowlife who saw women as second-class citizens. She'd dealt with more than her fair share during her law enforcement career. She hoped it would ultimately be a female who brought Pastor Chet down. How freaking poetic would that be? Moreso, if that lady was Aja Blue. She was rooting for her.

Speaking of, Christian would not be happy that she left the woman alone in the SUV, and Presley winced. Sure, she had locked the doors, but he wouldn't care that she'd taken that step. He might accuse her of dereliction of duty, but she kept the vehicle in sight. If anything happened, she'd be back there in a nanosecond.

Presley had seen the looks that passed between Christian and Aja Blue. There was more there than a client/agent relationship. True feelings were involved. If she wasn't mistaken, it was love. Christian wouldn't admit it, but he didn't have to. Having never been in love before, Presley was no expert. But she was proficient at reading people.

Knowing Aja Blue was alone meant she had to be quick. It only made sense to look around while Pastor Chet was otherwise occupied. You never knew what you might uncover.

Presley glanced over her shoulder. Though several cars, primarily trucks, dotted the lot, no people were wandering about. She glanced at the building in front of her, which had dulled yellow aluminum siding and two sizeable white garage doors. No cameras. She tried one of the side entries to find it locked. No problem. Presley removed the lock-picking kit from her cargo pants and made quick word of the obstacle in front of her. Then she was inside.

There were no windows, so the darkness was complete. She waited for her eyes to adjust. It smelled of gasoline, cut grass, and something she couldn't identify—maybe turpentine. She identified the large shape in front of her as a vehicle. She took out her phone and activated the flashlight app.

Presley smiled to herself and said, "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"